Hi Daniel,
Just thought I would share with you and everyone that sad regretful things
happen to us all and we always think later how terrible we are and how we
could have prevented it with just a little more thought.  But regretfully
it is too late and we forever live with the guilt and learn a hard hard
lesson.  This is the story I wrote when I lost one of my baby's to stupidity
early this year.  It hit me terribly hard as I had lost my mother and best
friend just prier to loosing my little one.
 
               The Tragic Death of a Baby
 
It could have been avoided if only I had used my brains and thought more
about the setup of my ferret room.  One of my spare bedrooms is for my
furby's.I have huge cages that I've made for my Furby gang and large fold
up cages that I have adapted for the rescues that don't like to be with the
Gang.  I have a chest of drawers that I have one large cage on.  Another
chest of drawers for my (their) colour T.V.  an old china cabinet with
another large cage on.  A huge cage that dominates one wall for the furby
gang at night, a writing desk that I keep furby junk and meds in, a video
and a been bag.  There are ladders going up to big mats hanging from false
beams like giant hammocks and ladders going to the tops of cages with
tunnels and stuff to play in.  They also have a toy box, a rice box and a
ping pong ball box.
 
I had come home from work with our shop ferret, who comes to visit on
weekends.  I popped him in with the gang (there were 6 in the gang then)
and they piled out of one of the cages to greet me and scruffy.  I didn't
recall my little 6 month old one eyed albino coming out to greet us but
didn't worry too much as i thought she must just be sleeping in one of
their many cuddly hidy holes.  So I came out and cooked tea.  After tea I
went back in to clean the gang out, you know, litter box's and all that
stuff.  Fresh food, water and a game or two.  I kept calling "Myopia",
(meaning short sighted), as she still hadn't made herself conspicuous
to me.  I really became worried then.  Where was she?  Was she ill or
something?  I started a search of all the cages, under everything they
could get under and up and in everything they could get in.  I still
couldn't find her.  I couldn't understand it.  I know she couldn't have got
out as the furby room is done up like fort knox.  I looked behind the big
wall cage., not there.  I sat back on the floor trying to think straight
and caught sight of a little white head and two little white paws sticking
out from behind the chest of draws by their water pail.  For a brief second
my heart leaped with relief and excitement and then died in my chest.  She
was so still.  I lunged into action and hauled on the chest of draws and
got my baby out.  God she was so cold.  I sat and cuddled her close and
thought through my tears that she would warm up.  I dribbled water into her
mouth and cuddled her in my arms trying to give her my warmth.  God I wish
she would warm up and just move.  One sign of a movement, please, please.
But my little one eyed baby didn't move.  I had found her but found her too
late.  I was devastated.  I cried and cried, I couldn't stop.  How could I
have let this happen to my baby.  Why oh why didn't I look for her when I
first came home.  If I had found her then perhaps there would have been a
chance.  I just can't forgive myself for the way I inadvertently caused
little Myopia's death.
 
I now check on them many times a day and each time have a head count.  I
have now pulled everything out from the walls so that it will never happen
again.
 
Please Please don't presume as I did that if a ferret can fit in it can get
out again.
 
What had happened was the chest of draws were on a lean.  She could fit
most of the way down but the gap became narrower and as she struggled to
get out she became wedged tighter and tighter.
 ---
 
This happened about six months ago and I still get upset over it and have a
cry from time to time.  I try to be very careful about where I put things
now and still have head counts to make sure they are all there and alive.
And I still haven't forgiven myself but have learned to live with it.  That
is all we can do really.  Learn from the tragedy and then learn to live
with the guilt.
 
Regards Colleen and the Furby Gang of 9 plus 4.
[Posted in FML issue 3148]